


Shackles

by imaginary_golux



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmund dreams.  Written for Porn Battle X.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shackles

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Цепи](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226060) by [Yozhik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yozhik/pseuds/Yozhik)



Edmund's grateful, in the years after Narnia is saved, the years when he sits upon Cair Paravel's throne beside his siblings, that no one ever asks him what it was like, being captive and favorite and victim of the White Witch. It means he never has to talk about those horrid days. More, it means he never has to say that he has not forgotten, that the memories still haunt him, though all that happened was imprisonment and attempted murder, and he has survived worse since then, because he still dreams of her.

He dreams, now that he is a man (and very handsome too, the dryads and naiads giggle behind their hands), of the White Witch in her terrible beauty, tall and pale and glorious. He dreams of being again in those icy dungeons, chained this time, chained to the walls so that he is cold, so cold, but the White Witch is in front of him, naked as he never saw her, calling him to come to her, to be with her as her consort, and he cannot help but stretch forward, fighting against the chains, knowing that if he were free he would, indeed, submit to her and be hers entirely, though some small wakeful part of his mind screams in horror at the thought. He knows that if the chains ever broke, in these terrible dreams, he would spring forward, clasp her in his arms and kiss his doom and die willingly in her embrace, his death the price of plunging into her, ravishing her. She is, he knows, deadly; probably she would kill him even as he came, so that death and orgasm would blend into one. But in the dreams he cannot help but want her.

Even then, the dreams would not be so horrible - after all, they are only dreams, and dreams mean little, even in Narnia - except that when he wakes, his wrists are bruised, as though he had been straining against shackles.


End file.
